


Playing Cupid

by IncandescentAntelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday, Blind Date, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Condoms, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Eventual Smut, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Hi this is a very specific AU, M/M, Matchmaking, Olympics, Past Christophe Giacometti/Victor Nikiforov, Post-Canon, Smut, Sugar Daddy, Valentine's Day, everyone is a skater except Phichit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-24 04:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: In the midst of the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing, Yuuri and Victor attempt to set up their painfully single friends for Valentine's Day. And Chris's birthday.





	1. I saw you from across the room

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to [mnad96 ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnad96) for the prompt, and to [Lauriana25](https://archiveofourown.com/users/Lauriana25) for beta-ing.

“Yuuri!” the Japanese skater’s ears perked up as he heard his name in that familiar and warm voice. Maybe it was latent adrenaline from the Opening Ceremonies, maybe it was the excitement of seeing his best friend after so long. But when Yuuri pulled himself away from a huddled mass of sponsors, he nearly lifted Phichit off the ground. 

“Phichit! I didn’t think you’d make it!” Yuuri laughed as he wrapped his arms around the Thai man’s shoulders, his voice muffled in the expensive-feeling material of his blazer.

“Have you not been checking your phone, Yuuri? _Mizuno_ just checked in at The Beijing Olympics on Facebook.” The younger man said, flashing his phone in Yuuri's face, “Did you really think I’d miss the chance to see my best friend skate? Especially when the Games are so close? No chance.” Phichit chirped, quickly plucking two flutes of champagne from a passing tray. “To gold medals and brand exposure!” Yuuri snorted a laugh and raised his glass, echoing his best friend’s sentiment with a smile. 

“To gold medals, brand exposure, and shameless self-promotion!” Yuuri toasted and clinked the crystal with Phichit’s. The man was just as bubbly as he had been in college, filling Yuuri in on everything he had missed in their time apart, including his promotion to senior social media correspondent at _Mizuno_ , who were sponsoring the Japanese teams. Yuuri remembered getting that text, its accompanying emoji onslaught and FaceTime squealing. And before he knew it he had agreed to (been forced to) participate in a photoshoot for the brand, Phichit playing the best friend card to very unfair advantage. 

“Shameless? Who, me? Never!” Phichit played at mock offense as he sipped the bubbling drink. The younger man pulled Yuuri to a high-top table and sat down, chin in his hand and proceeded to drill Yuuri on recent events in the Katsuki-Nikiforov household.

“How's the house hunting going?” He asked with a grin, knowing full well the answer Yuuri was about to give him.

“We sign as soon as we're back in Saint Petersburg. You know that, you doofus.” Yuuri laughed as he bit into a stale cracker from the charcuterie tray on the table.

“Yes, but it's so much more exciting to hear from you in person! FaceTime isn't the same and you know that.” Yuuri chuckled into his hand and he had to agree, there was something really special about chatting with his best friend in person after a few months apart.

" _YUURI-KUN!_ " A familiar but somehow different voice screamed from across the banquet hall, immediately tearing him away from his conversation. A flash of bright blonde hair caught his eye in the split second before he was nearly bowled over by his teammate.

" _Oof!_ H-hey Minami-kun.” Yuuri laughed as he peeled out of the tight hug, blinking as his eyes trailed up over his head. He’d grown since he saw him last. “You… you got taller..."

"You noticed! I knew you would! I can't believe I'm finally going to be on the same team as- sorry, who are you?" Minami cut himself off at the sight of an unfamiliar face, Yuuri chuckling at the younger man’s blunt nature.

"Oh, right! Sorry, Minami Kenjirou, this is Phichit Chulanont. I've known him since college, he's here on official business."

Phichit held out his hand to shake. "I represent one of your team's sponsors, Minami-san. Best of luck out there, this your first official Games, correct? Bet you're psyched!" Phichit chirped, the two of them chatted for a few minutes before his poor coach pulled him away under the guise of a curfew. 

“He’s a lot, isn’t he?” Phichit laughed as he squealed his goodbye.

“Definitely. I still can’t believe how tall he is now.” Yuuri laughed and continued on where they had left off. “Anyway. How are the hamsters? Acclimating to the new apartment?” Yuuri knew he’d opened a can of worms with that, the man could talk about his fluffy children for hours, just like Viktor could squeal over their dogs without relent until he died an old man. Yuuri scanned the room for his husband, who was undoubtedly doing some catching up of his own. It was rare for most of the skating community to be in the same place at the same time. At the last Olympics, Viktor had nearly chatted poor Yuzuru’s ears off before Yuuri pulled him away in panic. 

Viktor was never too far from Yuuri’s side. And the Japanese man was thankful for that, especially around an open bar. Yuuri much preferred being able to keep an eye on his husband while he was drinking. He listened for that bright and resonant laugh that most often accompanied Viktor's drinking habits, finding that perfectly-coiffed head of silver hair predictably, at the bar with Chris. The two were damn near inseparable during these events, the Swiss skater tucked into Viktor's arm as if _he_ was Viktor's other half, not Yuuri. 

Not that Yuuri truly minded. He didn’t worry about Chris. The past he and Viktor had was long gone, only a distant memory remembered when drowned in tequila and vodka. Mahogany locked onto cerulean, a warm, heart-shaped grin quickly filled Viktor's face as Yuuri smirked in return. Phichit’s yammering faded from his ears as Viktor's lips mouthed _’ai shiteru yo’_. Viktor had been learning Japanese, a task that had taken him admittedly a bit longer than Yuuri had expected. Yuuri was by no means fluent in Russian, but if Viktor dropped him off in the middle of Saint Petersburg, he could probably make it back home. If Yuuri dropped Viktor off in the middle of Tokyo? He would never see his husband again. 

Yuuri quickly mouthed _‘ya lyublyu tebya’_ back, shifting his gaze to acknowledge the Swiss skater beside his husband, finding his eyes had fallen further… _south_. South of Phichit’s belt, specifically. Chris’s hazel eyes were trained on Phichit’s ass. Very obviously. 

He was pretty sure both of them were single. Phichit was accomplished and well-off, established in a large corporation and comfortable enough to have a _very nice_ apartment in Tokyo. Why hadn't he found someone? Chris hadn't had a stable relationship since _what’s-his-name_ with the long hair, and he'd called Viktor for a few emergency date extractions with bad Tinder finds.

“Yuuri? Earth to Katsudon?” Phichit snapped his fingers in front of Yuuri’s eyes, pulling him from his thoughts and back to the terrible stale cracker between his fingers and a pair of questioning grey eyes that seemed to bore right through him. “You weren’t listening at all, were you?”

Yuuri flushed bright red at that, Viktor winking at him from across the banquet hall. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t catch the last thing you said. _Gomen nasai_.” Yuuri apologized, bowing slightly. Phichit huffed, crossed his arms over his chest, Yuuri barely stifling a chuckle at the childish behavior. But what else had he been expecting from his best friend? 

Phichit harrumphed, slowly opening a grey eye at the sound of Yuuri's laugh, snorting a laugh of his own. “I don't blame you. You snagged a winner.” 

“Yeah, I did.” A soft smirk cocked coffee-coloured lips up.

“Have you told him about the posters then?”

“I swear to God, Chulanont, you will not survive the night if you tell him.” Phichit smiled deviously and Yuuri tried to hold the stern scowl. He had told Viktor about the posters in his room at Yutopia. He had seen them himself when he helped Yuuri move to Saint Petersburg. But their dorm room in Detroit was exceedingly worse. And his husband would most likely cry if he found out Yuuri had had a Lambiel poster among the Viktors. (Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov was a jealous drunk and Yuuri was not ready to manage that headache tonight.)

“Fine, fine. I won’t ruin your marital bliss.” he laughed, uncrossing his arms. “Is the puppy warming up to Viktor yet?” Phichit asked with a stifled chuckle. 

“She’s getting there. She still isn’t sure about his hair.” Yuuri laughed at the memory of the video he’d posted on Instagram, of their new puppy (She had her own account, at Viktor's insistence. @flip-the-teacup-poodle. She was verified. And had more followers than Yuuri.) tentatively sniffing at Viktor's hair and whining, skittering across the floor and jumping into Yuuri’s lap. The video cut right as a graying Makkachin bowled Viktor over. His phone vibrated in his pocket, bringing him back to the moment. 

_**Vitya**_ 💙 _(sent 21:13) yuuuuuuuuuuuuri your butt looks reeeeeeally cute tonight_ 😘

Yuuri rolled his eyes and chuckled, casting a wink over his shoulder at the tipsy Russian at the bar. “Do you mind if I reply to this text?” Yuuri asked, the Thai man nodding and waving him off with a dismissive smile. _“Arigatou.”_ He murmured and unlocked his phone, quickly tapping out a reply.

 _ **me** (sent 21:14)_ 🙄 _Vitya, is Chris seeing anyone?_  
_**Vitya**_ 💙 _(sent 21:14) no, why?_  
_**me** (sent 21:15) wanna play Cupid?_  
_**Vitya**_ 💙 _(sent 21:15) YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_ 😍😍😍

The two passed a few more texts as the plan settled into place, Yuuri grinning like a loon when he finally pocketed his phone again. 

“Drunk Vitya texts?” Phichit asked knowingly, a cheeky grin splitting his face as he tucked his own device into his jacket. 

“Some things never change.” Yuuri chuckled, trying to seem casual as he sipped from his glass. “Hey Phich, what are you doing on Monday?” The younger man made a grand show of pulling his phone out of his jacket again and very obviously checking nothing.

“Well, Monday is Valentine’s Day and I’m painfully single, so… nothing.” Yuuri smiled brightly, playing into the game a bit. 

“Perfect! I’m supposed to meet a sponsor, do you think you could do it for me? Viktor wants to take me out.” Yuuri laid it on thick, with extra sugar and frosting. Enough to make his best friend squirm a bit. “You're so much better at it, and you already know all my terms… and I think Vitya has something fun in mind-”

“Alright, alright!” Phichit interrupted just in time. “But I’ll have to charge the regular fee, Katsuki.”

“Movie night?” Phichit pulled that shit-eating-grin that Yuuri recognized, he meant the King and the Skater. Even Yuuri knew the plot upside down and inside out by this point. They had watched it so many times when they roomed together that he could probably recite the dialogue backwards.

“You got it.” 

“Katsuki-Nikiforov, don't forget. Viktor would cry hearing you say it the old way, Phich.” Yuuri corrected him, hoping Viktor hadn’t heard. 

_“SORRY VIKTOR!”_ Phichit called at the top of his lungs, the champagne apparently loosening his inhibitions just like it always had. Yuuri flushed bright red at the sudden outburst, suppressing the urge to bury himself in the red and white of his new Team Japan jacket.

 _“Po kakoy prichine?!”_ The Russian called back, slurring a bit. Yuuri shushed them both as a group of sponsors approached the table, cutting off the view of his husband’s drink-flushed cheeks and easy smile.

"Chris, are you still available for our date night on Monday?" Viktor crooned over the rim of his drink, a fizzy thing with lime and ginger and not nearly enough vodka. He told the poor bartender as much and the man added a satisfying few extra glugs from the top shelf. 

"You mean my pity birthday date with my gorgeous-yet-totally-unavailable best friend?” Chris sighed dramatically into his martini. “Alas, I am. No one’s brave enough to take me out and all the pretty people around here just want to hook up." The Swiss skater lamented to his best friend, taking a slow sip. Viktor smiled and shot the blonde a sideways look as he admired his husband’s rear from a distance.

"So…” Viktor drawled, “if I was to tell you that I made reservations for a certain Italian bistro on your birthday...?" He watched the realization dawn on his best friend’s face and braced himself for the squealing. A bit of martini sloshed over the rim of his glass and Viktor yelped, quickly peeling out of his new jacket before the gin soaked through.

"Vitya! You didn't! That place is so exclusive, you have to book six months in advance! Even longer for Valentine's Day!" Chris set his glass down and patted the shoulder of his shirt dry, babbling on about the Michelin-rated chef and the wine selection that was ‘to die for, darling. To. Die. For.’ 

Viktor chuckled and winked, tossing his hair in his usual way, a bright smile curling his lips into the shape of a heart. "Who do you think you're talking to? I might be a little late… Yuuri and I have something to-"

"I do _not_ need the details of your disgustingly domestic love life, Vitya!" Chris interrupted him with a snort. _“No use making me even more jealous.”_ He muttered under his breath in his first language, which Viktor proceeded to ignore, hoping his plans would be changing that.

Viktor laughed jovially and brushed it off. "Fine, fine. The reservation is under your name. _Bon anniversaire_ , sweetheart." Chris squealed as he wrapped Viktor in a tight hug, the Russian laughing and embracing his best friend.

_"Merci, mon ami!”_

***

After sitting through the excruciatingly boring toasts and speeches by various ISU officials and recognizing the winners of the previous games, the bunch of skaters and coaches poured out into the street, the athletes wandering back to Olympic Village.

Yuuri had gotten used to walking a drunk Viktor home, but helping both Viktor and Chris was an exhausting feat, even for someone with as much stamina as Yuuri. He said his goodbye to Phichit, who made him promise he’d be having dinner with him every night that they could while they were in the same time zone. 

"Yuuriiiiii, you're so lucky!" Chris slurred after Phichit said his goodbye, the three of them slowly meandering through the rows of newly-constructed condos scattered around the stadiums.

"What do you mean?" Yuuri questioned.

"You're married and you still have all the hotties sniffing at you! _Moi?_ I'm single and _he_ didn't even look my way." the Swiss skater pouted, leaning into Yuuri’s arm like a life preserver.

"Who on earth-" Yuuri began, trailing off as it dawned on him. Phichit. "Oh, he was just an old friend." Yuuri tried to be coy, not wanting to give away the plan quite yet.

"Hmmm, I wouldn't mind being his friend..." Chris babbled on and on about the ‘cutie with the squishy butt’ that Yuuri had been talking to as they deposited him in his room in the massive sprawl of provided housing, dragging Viktor back into the elevator and up to their floor. In the quiet of the elevator, Yuuri had a terrible thought.

“Viktor, are we meddling?” The Russian laughed and leaned on his husband’s shoulder, his breath reeked of vodka and lime.

“Y-yes, buuuuut wasss the harm in meddling, Yuuuuuuuuuri?” Viktor slurred, giggling as Yuuri pulled him through the door and toward their suites.

“Vitya…” Yuuri chided as Viktor began unsubtly sliding his hand under the waist of his trousers, long fingers cold and determined. 

“I think they’ll get along, don’t you?” Viktor whispered in Yuuri’s ear as the Japanese skater shuddered and fumbled for the key card, reaching back for his wallet. What he felt was the wall of muscle that was his husband and the very obvious bulge in his pants that was going to be difficult to ignore. He mulled over what Viktor said and pushed the door open with a sigh.

“I really hope so.” Yuuri breathed as Viktor threw him over his shoulder and carried him to bed. They wouldn’t be skating for a week or so anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of a certain Swiss skater's birthday, have a two-part fic full of silly 80's rom-com vibes and a dash of my signature... _spice_ to come in chapter two, coming out on our boy's birthday (February 14th)! Stay tuned!  
> LONG LIVE CHUCHUMETTI
> 
> Drop a kudos if you're liking this so far! Say hi in the comments! Love you all!
> 
> ❤️ IA ❤️  
> [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/IAtheAuthor)


	2. and I knew I had to know you

“Viktor! What are you wearing? I don’t want to match you too closely.” Chris whined at his best friend over FaceTime, showing him the four outfits he had laid out. He had brought most of his wardrobe with him for the Games; a man should never wear the same outfit twice in the public eye, after all. 

_“Wear the cream one. That one always looks nice on you, mon cher.”_ Viktor's voice rumbled through the speaker. 

_“Who is it?”_ Yuuri’s voice spilled through as well, distant and tired. 

_“It’s Chris, lyubov moya. He’s planning what he’s going to wear tonight.”_ Viktor had insisted on continuing their annual Valentine’s Day date, even after nearly four years of marriage to his Yuuri. It was a small thing, and usually, Chris looked forward to it, but this year… he wasn’t so sure.

“Yuuri, should I wear baby blue or ivory?” Chris asked, his mind half made up already.

 _“Ivory. Definitely ivory.”_ Yuuri said gently, _“It looks nice with your eyes.”_

“Awwww, Yuuri! You’re too sweet for this little heart of mine.” Chris cooed, his mind settled on a cashmere turtleneck that he knew made his shoulders look broad and his waist look lean. “Jeans?”

 _“Jeans will be perfect, mon ami.”_ Viktor replied sweetly, that smile warm and reassuring. They both knew how Chris felt about the date, regardless of the Michelin stars and the swanky ambiance. It felt like a pity date. 

“Okay, see you both there! Eight, right? And you'll be there a bit late, Vitya tells me, Yuuuuuuuuuri.” Chris purred and Yuuri yelped, an adorable noise that he loved teasing out of the Japanese man. 

_“We'll see you there, sweetheart. Kisses!”_ Viktor cooed and the call ended, Chris left to his own thoughts. 

Viktor and Yuuri had something special. And while it was grossly domestic and saccharine as cotton candy, something in the Swiss skater yearned for that. Someone to be there. To take care of… and to take care of him. The easy way Yuuri curled into Viktor's arm, the small, gentle touches that Chris observed at dinner. A brush of fingertips over knuckles, a reassuring arm around the waist. He swallowed against the thoughts and began dressing.

Chris rolled on his favorite jeans, the black denim so tight they looked painted on; they made his ass look fantastic. If he was single on goddamn Valentine's Day again, he might as well flaunt it. Yuuri was right, the ivory sweater did look nice on him, it complimented his peachy skin tone well and made his eyes pop. Maybe he could walk away with the waiter's number, if nothing else. 

His mind wandered back to Yuuri's friend, that coffee-colored skin and his soft laugh. He wished he'd gotten his number. But the night didn't give him much time to dwell on it, the taxi Viktor had called for him arrived sooner than he expected. He plucked those Louis Vuitton flats from his closet and gave himself one last checkover.

The round, silver glasses on his nose stayed there, he knew Viktor and Yuuri didn't care.

***

"The reservation is under Giacometti. I'm meeting my friends here." Chris told the maitre d when he arrived, the woman gave him a polite nod as she led him to the table. Chris tried not to sulk a bit at the sight of couples mooning over each other, pairs of doe eyes sharing bites of their dinner and fingers intertwined over the tabletops, red wine and chocolate cake, strawberries and champagne.

How long had it been since he’d had a proper date like that? Not a Tinder hookup, not a third-wheel pity date. But a real date. Was it Masumi? Even when he and Viktor were fooling around they didn't go out on _dates_. They just rolled out of bed and ordered takeout. Would these silly little ‘best friend dates’ with Viktor (and now, by default, Yuuri) become the usual? Of third-wheeling with the single most perfect couple on the planet Earth? Not that Chris minded spending time with both of them. He just wished that for once, that he could sit down for a proper date. _With_ a proper date. Like… 

“Oh. _Oh_.” 

_Viktor, you sneaky bastard._ Chris thought as he rounded the corner, hazel eyes carefully trained on the ebony gleam of his hair, the thick, sculpted shape of his brows. He was just as perfect as he had looked at the banquet, that coffee colored skin warm as it caught in the light of the hearth on the wall. A glass of red wine sat at his left hand, the gold of his watch glinted in the low light as it peeked out from the crisp cuff of a smart black jacket and a raspberry-colored shirt. Chris suddenly felt _very_ underdressed by comparison.

“Hi-” Chris began, pulling out his chair to sit as the man across the table stood, reaching a hand out to shake.

“Hello, Mister Giaco- _oh_. You’re _that_ Giacometti.”

“ _Mon Dieu,_ you wound me!” Chris laughed as the man draped a dramatic hand over his forehead.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I just… Yuuri told me I was meeting a sponsor for him tonight.” the man stifled a laugh behind his hand. “Guess I’m a bit overdressed then, huh?” 

“I thought I was meeting the lovebirds for a pity date… and I’m horrendously underdressed.” Chris said with a laugh as he sat, wishing he had at the very least put his damn contacts in instead of just shoving his glasses on. "It's not every day I get a blind date as a birthday present. Especially not with someone as lovely as you…?” he trailed off, a soft question at the end.

“Phichit Chulanont. I brought a business card, but I suppose I won't need it.” he chuckled lightly.

 _Phichit._ Chris sighed, the name sweet and crisp on his tongue like champagne.

“Unless it has your cell phone number on it. I'll gladly swipe it from you then.” the Swiss murmured as he scanned the drink menu, trying to avoid thinking about those soft coffee lips. He already knew what he wanted, Viktor usually spoiled him with a glass of-

"The _Monte Bello_ is fantastic.” he said easily, offering his glass over the tabletop. “Want a taste?” 

_Yes. Yes I do._

Chris nodded mutely and plucked the glass from his hand, swirling the heady liquid, savoring the delicious aroma he’d come to associate with birthdays. A lopsided smirk curled at the corner of his mouth as he took a tiny sip, just enough to roll over his tongue. 

“Mmm. I’ll definitely be having a glass of that. I usually do, actually. When I come here with Viktor, well, to the original location in Italy…” Chris beamed as he passed the glass back, finding those grey eyes bright and intense as they met his gaze. A small card was perched between his fingers, glittering gold fond against wine-colored cardstock. He flipped the piece of paper over to show a line of handwritten numbers that Chris hoped would quickly rise to the top of his recents. He swallowed thickly and plucked the card from his hand; he swore he felt something as their fingers nearly touched.

“So you’re the old friend that Yuuri’s always talking about.” He tried to recover, hoping to god it sounded natural. 

“The one and only!” Phichit laughed and took a small sip of his wine. “It's your birthday? On Valentine's Day? Guess you really are Cupid, huh?" 

“Cupid has better luck with love than me, _mon cher._ And I’m pretty sure Cupid is a baby.” Chris laughed, an uncomfortable thing in his throat. Since when was he so bad at flirting? He had definitely said too much. He buried his nose in the folds of the menu, his eyes reading the words he had already read before, his mouth had been watering for most of the day.

“That bad, huh? Can’t be worse than my last date. Ditched me while I was in the bathroom.”

“Oh god, I thought that only happened in movies?” Chris tried desperately not to laugh, waiting for a cue from the man in front of him.

“I swear on my life, I can’t get a guy to stick around for longer than a week.” Phichit laughed as he sipped from his glass again. “Hope that didn’t make me sound like a nightmare.” he added quickly, the waiter interrupting before Chris could assure him that he wasn’t any less interested. 

“We’ll have a bottle of the _Monte Bello_.” Phichit told the waiter, Chris stuttering as his drink order caught in his throat. “A birthday gift.” The blonde nodded dumbly as the Thai man ordered his meal and a dessert to share for later, Chris ordered his marsala, splurging a bit with a cream sauce. He wasn't going to be competing again for a few days.

“So, have you known Yuuri and Viktor long?” Phichit asked after their bottle had arrived, filling Chris's glass with the smooth red liquid.

“I’ve been skating with Viktor for years, since my Junior days. And Yuuri brightened up both of our lives on a champagne-soaked night a few years ago. You?”

“I went to college with Yuuri, we were roommates.” Phichit answered, topping off his own glass. 

“Ohoho, tell me, did you two get up to anything devious?” Chris chuckled and waggled his meticulously manicured eyebrows as he lifted the cup to his lips, feeling the soft flush of drink already crawling up his throat and resting on his cheeks. The younger man liked how that looked. A lot.

“Well... he did help me sneak my hamsters into the dorm… among… _other_ things.” he replied with a sly grin and a wink.

“ _Mon cher_ , you can’t leave me hanging after that!” Chris groaned as he dropped his free hand to the table, his fingers landing in Phichit’s outstretched palm. Neither man shied away from the touch, rather, simply adjusting; the smaller, coffee-colored hand wrapped around Chris's.

“Story for a story, blondie.” Phichit chirped as the waiter returned, another quite inopportune interruption, though the food smelled so delicious that neither of them were truly upset. Chris made a few PG-13 noises as he ate the gourmet food, the meat succulent and tender, and paired perfectly with the wine in his glass. Their conversation was easy and light, sharing stories about their respective best friends. Chris couldn’t stop thinking about that gentle thumb stroking over his knuckles, that soft contact that hadn’t stopped.

“Once, Vitya convinced me to go with him to his salon. He didn’t tell me he had booked me a waxing consultation. He wasn’t a fan of the scruff.” Chris laughed as he stroked the coppery-brown hair on his chin with his free hand.

“Aw, I think it looks nice.” Phichit chimed, his charcoal eyes sparkling in the low light of the restaurant. The compliment buzzed headier than the wine in his bloodstream.

“Say that again? I want to record you saying it to send to that Russian airhead.” Chris laughed, loud and full as he pulled out his phone. A few heads turned in their direction and at least two snooty scoffs reached the table, but neither man heard them. Phichit’s body was taken over by the laughter, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he tried to stifle the noises in the elbow of his jacket. He caught his breath as Chris started the recording, whispering _’action’_.

“ _Privet,_ Viktor!” Phichit waved at the camera, a bright smile on his cheeks. “I hope Yuuri’s giving you that good good tonight!” Chris snorted, nearly dropping his phone into his pasta. Phichit disguised his laugh as a cough and continued, “I think Chris's scruff looks really nice. Oh. And thanks for setting us up!” 

The rest of the meal passed with stifled laughter, a few stolen bites from each other’s plates, and that soft contact between their hands did not relent. Chris's cheeks began to ache for how long he had been smiling, how long he’d been laughing. He would definitely need to thank Yuuri and his accomplice for this. They swapped photos of their pets and shared social media handles, absently scrolling through each other’s feeds as they waited for dessert.

Dessert arrived with the checks, and Phichit immediately handed the waiter a gold credit card. 

"I don't need you to pay for me. I can pay my own way." Chris fumbled for his wallet, Phichit gave his hand a light squeeze and the Swiss man froze. 

"On your birthday? On Valentine's Day? What kind of date would I be if I let that happen?" Those soft lips laughed as he handed the leather folder back to the waiter.

"So… this was a date, then?" Chris dared to hope, casting a glance down at the hand that hadn’t stopped holding his. Phichit smiled softly as he leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his free hand, the glittering gold of his watch shining in the candlelight.

"It still is, if you're interested." he said, a mirthful gleam in his eye.

"Just… just because you've flashed a bit of gold doesn't mean I'm easy, _mon cher_. I'm not like Viktor or Yuuri." Chris stammered as Phichit spooned a bite of chocolate mousse into his mouth, a small, pink tongue darting out, licking his lips and derailing his train of thought.

"Oh, I knew _that_ the moment you sat down.” Phichit laughed, his voice dropped a few steps and coiled in Chris’s stomach as if he’d swallowed a hot coal. “Besides, who says I'm easy either? You have to try this, Chris.” The younger man pointed at the dessert with his spoon before scooping up another bite.

"So… you didn't just ask me if I was interested in… sex?" Chris tried to cover his confusion with a bite of the sumptuous chocolate, a soft moan of satisfaction resonating in his throat. The light mousse melted on his tongue. Phichit chuckled darkly, which was quickly interrupted as Chris leaned forward, stealing the bite of mousse from his spoon. 

Phichit swallowed thickly, his grey eyes utterly captivated by way those soft, pink lips curled around the silverware, a slight hint of a wet tongue flicking out to draw the silky dessert into his mouth with a sinfully low moan and a cheeky wink.

He nearly forgot to breathe as he took another bite, wishing he could capture that noise again, that sound more delicious than the chocolate on his tongue, and keep it in a bottle to savor like a fine wine.

"Actually, I was going to suggest a romantic stroll under the stars, but I like your idea much better, baby."

Chris shuddered at the way the endearment sounded in his mouth. He hadn't been expecting it at all, not in the slightest. He swallowed the lump in his throat as anything even relatively clever escaped his mind. Phichit laughed gently and the sound felt like honey in his ears.

The waiter returned with that heavy card and those mesmerizing eyes flashed at him as he signed on the line, fishing out a colorful note and tucking it under his wine glass. Chris didn’t need to know how much it was worth to see how the waiter’s eyes had bugged at the sight.

"Let's go then, hm?"

Chris wanted nothing more than to sashay out of his chair and make sure that the devilishly adorable man opposite got the perfect view of his derriere, wanted to feel the heat of his charcoal eyes running up and down his back, wanted to give him his trademark wink over his shoulder.

What he got was a stumbling, skittish scrape of his chair as he jumped out of his seat and Phichit trying to mask a chuckle as a cough.

"Eager, aren't we?" the tanned man asked, gliding out of his chair with all the ease of a Siamese cat and sliding a hand to the small of Chris's back. "So, do I need to pull the old ‘your place or mine’ line?" Phichit slinked into the crook of Chris’s arm with the easy sensuality of a panther. How Yuuri had struggled learning Eros with a roommate like Phichit was entirely beyond Chris, shuddering as the man curled against him, those charcoal eyes looking all the way up at him while still being so _heated_ and _commanding_ licked fire up and down the older man’s spine. 

Chris felt his back grow warm just where his date gently placed his hand, heat and electricity burning up his spine and down to his core. And he was pretty sure he was blushing, a notion almost laughable; Christophe Giacometti, famous for making the ice melt, was a mess, all because of a younger man with a sinful smile and skin that looked more delicious than chocolate.

Phichit grinned wolfishly at the adorable blush on those creamy cheeks. He was going to have to send Yuuri an embarrassingly explicit selfie later, as a thank you for this. "Relax, baby." Phichit purred, his smile growing at the hitched breath that tripped from Chris's full lips. "I don't bite… unless you want me to."

Chris made a quick mental note to kiss the ground Viktor walked on the next time he saw him.

They strode out into the busy street, cold biting at their noses, Phichit wasting no time in hailing a taxi and sliding into the backseat. Phichit prattled directions to the driver in Chinese and Chris settled back against the leather seat, breathing deeply through his nose. The nerves were getting to him. How long had it been since he’d been nervous to climb into bed with someone? He nearly jumped as Phichit tucked himself against his side, settling in under his right arm.

He was warm, his hair smelled like oud and citrus. Those slender fingers brushed over the cap of his knee, Chris nearly gasped as he toyed the outside seam of his jeans. It almost tickled. Phichit turned those charcoal eyes on him, eyes that seemed to burn through him and read him line by line. And god above, did Chris want him to flick through his pages, he'd lay it all bare for this man to explore.

Before either of them registered it, the distance between them shrank to nothing, lips sparked as they meet in a gasping, panting wrestle of tongues and lips: of soft, needy moans and fumbling fingers. Phichit had crawled into Chris’s lap, the silk of his tie draped over the centerline of his stomach.

 _"Oh god-"_ both of them whispered in unison, cheeks flushing and pulses hammering in their ears. A soft thumb stroked the stubble on Chris's cheek as the other trailed down the front of his sweater to the bulge in his jeans. A sharp intake of breath huffed against Chris’s cheek as he slid a hand up Phichit's leg, gripping the top of his thigh slightly, his thumb teasingly hovering over his zipper.

"N-not here, baby... be patient." He whispered against his lips, a coffee-colored hand gently danced over his heated flesh, a tiny whine escaping into his mouth.

"Keep calling me that and we won't make it." Chris panted, pressing his forehead to Phichit's, gulping down air in a futile attempt to slow his heart rate.

"What, _‘baby’_?" Phichit smirked, a fingertip lazily trailing Chris's stubble, tipping his chin up. "So, you’ve got a daddy kink, hm?"

Chris blushed and tried to look away, but the finger under his chin kept his eyes locked on the burning coals in Phichit's eyes. "It’s… it’s m-more like a sugar daddy thing, but… I like being called that. Maybe it's your accent." Chris admitted, a shudder rolling down his spine.

"Oh?" the Thai man grinned, running the pad of his thumb over the flushed flesh of Chris's lower lip. "You like how I say _baby_?” Phichit whispered against his ear, “What else do you like me saying, Chrissss?"

The Swiss man gulped, audibly _gulped_. "Anything. Just-just keep talking until we get there."

Phichit chuckled, the sound so gravelly it scratched between Chris's shoulder blades better than the manicured fingernails that were dancing over his chin. "Keep talking, hmmm? Maybe I should tell you what I want to do when we get to my suite? Would you like that… _baby_?"

"Yes, God yes, pl-" Chris snapped his jaw shut, he'd nearly begged.

"What was that, sweetheart?" Phichit chuckled as he moved to kiss at the soft crook of his throat, grinning wolfishly at the bob of his Adam's apple.

"N-nothing, I-" Chris began, cut off by the heat of those lips against his skin, his eyes rolling back as Phichit laved a wet tongue along the line of his jaw.

"That sounded like a 'please'..." The younger man teased and a lewd moan fell from Chris's lips. "I'd love to hear you say it, _mon cher_..." Phichit whispered, thanking God he remembered a shred of French.

"P-please, keep talking, I- I love your voice, so much..." Chris canted up into the barely-there touch through his jeans, his breaths coming faster and goosebumps pimpling his skin under Phichit's lips.

"I can't wait. To get you. In. My. Bed." Phichit whispered against his throat, punctuating the fragmented sentences with wet, hungry kisses, careful not to leave marks… though seeing this man skate on the world's stage with a smattering of hickeys and lovebites was a tempting fantasy.

Chris whined, chewing on his lip until it felt he might actually draw blood. "P-Please don't stop." he begged, heat seeping from every pore on his face, his voice thick with want. 

"I want to rip this sweater off and see just how good you look under it." Phichit whispered in the shell of his ear, catching the soft lobe between his teeth and laying a teasing line of his fingertips along the hem of the ivory cashmere. "I bet you'll look so good on my silk sheets."

Chris scrambled to think of something, anything, to reply with, some comment about his date's perfect ass or how he wanted to pull that tie off with his teeth, but the words came out as a garbled moan instead, his hands gripping the smaller man's shoulders as more teasing kisses scorched his throat.

"I want to see you naked on my bed." Phichit continued, the edge of a growl in his voice as he felt his cock grow in his tight trousers, cursing his fashion sense. "I want to hear the noises you make when I fuck you better and harder than anyone else you've ever been with. I want to give you a night you won't forget for the rest of your life, baby."

A pitiful whine morphed into a gravelly moan as that coil of arousal behind his navel tightened again, imagining that lithe form pushing him into bed, fingertips pulling him apart from the inside out lit a wildfire under his skin. "I... I won't, I swear I won't-" Chris gasped as the heat of his body disappeared, just now noticing the car had stopped moving.

"C'mon, baby. Let's go." Phichit cooed, offering a hand to the older man as he opened the door. "We're just getting started, after all." A devilish smirk and a flash of something hungry in his eyes sent a fresh pang of arousal to Chris's core, his erection nearly throbbing with neglect. 

How had this happened? Christophe Giacometti, reduced to quaking by a man nearly six years his junior? And he _loved_ it.

 _"Oui.”_ He answered shakily as he took that soft hand, catching the driver's exasperated eye in the rearview mirror. In another circumstance he might have winked. But he was too focused on the heat of Phichit’s skin against his, the double thrum of his pulse roaring in his ears. 

Quick footsteps carried them through the lobby and into the next available elevator, both bodies achingly hard and humming with arousal. Those mirrored doors slid shut, sealing the pair in alone. Phichit pressed a button very near the top without breaking eye contact, holding his gaze captive in the mirror.

Lips met in a frenzied rush again, Phichit's arms wrapped around Chris's broad shoulders, fingers gently toying with the short, dark hair underneath the mop of blonde curls. He had half a mind to make a cheeky comment about the curtains matching the drapes. He could save that for later. His lips were busy.

Chris's mind went blank as the smaller man somehow managed to press him against the mirrored glass, the muted musak barely audible over the hungry moans that he both offered and swallowed, his heart racing as he waited impatiently for that damn button to ding, for those doors to open so this gorgeous creature could make good on his promise. He shuddered at the way he had said it, the memory of his lips at his throat running right to his dick.

"Y-you're stronger than you look." he whispered dumbly against Phichit's lips as he was pressed harder against the wall, eyes rolling at the hard line that digs into his hip, imagining just how good that bulge would feel inside him.

"I work out." Phichit stated matter-of-factly, pulling at the tight knot of his tie without moving an inch away from the flushed, panting delight in front of him. "Hmm, I wonder if I could bench you. How much do you weigh?"

Chris chuckled. "A gentleman wouldn't ask a question like that."

Phichit's grin grew sly and crooked. "Did I say I was a gentleman? Oops, my bad." Chris moaned as Phichit captured his lips again, greedily grabbing handfuls of his muscled rear, pulling him closer, rolling his hips against the younger man's; the friction spine-tingling but not nearly enough.

The elevator finally stopped and Chris was pulled out of the car by the loop of his jeans, down the nearly silent hall, plush carpeting dulling the sound of their footsteps. Phichit waved his wallet over the panel by the door, the tinny chiming sound drowned out by Chris's yelp as the Thai man pulled him through the door and pressed him against the wall again, a hungry moan sliding out of Phichit's mouth.

"Take. This. Off." Phichit groaned, toying with the hem of his sweater again. 

His suit jacket fell to the floor, silk tie quickly joining it, ivory cashmere forgotten in the entry. A raspberry-colored shirt landed in a potted plant, two pairs of designer shoes left scattered... somewhere. 

"Good god, baby..." Phichit moaned wetly as those painted-on jeans were peeled off muscled thighs and calves. "I was right. You. Are. Gorgeous." Chris smiled coyly, eyes trailing down the coffee-colored flesh of Phichit's chest and stomach, almost salivating at the soft definition of his abs. Not too muscular, not too thin or curvy. He had the body of a swimmer, almost a skater. Maybe in another life he would have given even Yuuri a run for his money on the ice.

"You're not so bad yourself, _mon cher_." he purred before pulling him in for another deep explorative kiss, shivering with excitement as the younger man's tongue tickled the roof of his mouth, his hands caressing his chest, reading every bump and curve and line like Braille.

Before he realized they’d gone anywhere, he felt the backs of his knees hit something hard and smooth. With a slight yelp, he fell back, the heat of his skin cooling with the kiss of silk on his spine. 

Phichit smirked slyly, gazing down at him with hooded eyes, nudging Chris's long legs slightly apart with his knee. "I was right again. You belong on silk, baby. Especially mine."

Standing at the foot of the bed, Phichit's eyes locked on the swell in Chris's tight black thong, a dark, shining patch where he had already started leaking. Hooking a slender finger under the thin material on his hip, he grinned at the shiver that ran down the birthday boy's thighs. "I think these would look better on the floor, don't you?"

"Mhhmm-" Chris moaned, any rational thought, any silver-tongued quip fleeing at the heat in Phichit's eyes. 

The younger man inched that tight fabric down over his thighs, hissing as his throbbing length kissed the cool air. Phichit made a lewd show of licking his lips at the glistening string of precome that pooled in a carved canyon of muscle at his hip. The thong was discarded over his shoulder and the younger man took a step back to admire the debauched Swiss in his hotel bed, his chest flushed and heaving, thick length twitching and every expanse of flesh dotted with goosebumps. _Exactly where you should be, baby,_ Phichit thought as he hooked his fingers into the waist of his briefs, shucking them as quickly as he had Chris's. 

"So, beautiful..." Phichit crooned as he crawled over the blonde's form, "Tell me. How do you want to play tonight?"

"T-tonight? Does th-that mean there might be m-mooOOooore?" Chris moaned as Phichit wrapped a hand around his heated length, stroking lazily.

"Mmhhhmmmm. But tonight's _your_ night, baby." He leaned over Chris's frame with a curved spine and languid, feline movements. "Should I ride this thick cock? Would my baby like that?"

"Haaaaaa-actually... I-I w-was thi-hinking that..."

Phichit hummed, a questioning sound against his chest, his tongue rolling over a pert nipple, drawing it between his lips. "That...?"

Chris's chest heaved at the teasing, perspiration beading on his brow. It felt so good, too good, like this man could make him come just from sucking on his chest. Had it really been that long since he'd gotten laid? Or was it just that it had never been this… intoxicating?

"That m-may-haaayybe… oh god, please fuck me!" Chris keened, arching into that wet mouth.

Phichit pulled off, looking down at the flushed, pleading sparkle in those olive-green eyes, his breath stuttering at the request. 

"You… you want me to top?" he asked, his brain struggling to let that sink in. It had been a while since he'd topped, all his previous partners assuming that just because he was small, he didn’t want to be the one giving.

"Please, Phichit, pl-please." Chris begged breathlessly, eyes glancing down at the long member that was just millimeters from his, throbbing and so fucking tempting to look at. Leaning down to capture his lips in a sweet kiss, the Thai man smiled. 

"I'd love to, baby." he whispered, shifting to lie next to Chris, a hand dancing down his chest and stomach, brushing the soft mound of dark curls at the base of his cock before reaching further down. "Is that good?" 

"Oh god, please, Phichit!" the Swiss cried as a fingertip kissed the tight ring of muscle, teasing gently. 

Reaching for the bedside table drawer, Phichit pulled out a tiny bottle and squeezed a healthy dollop of that shiny liquid over his fingers before returning to Chris's side, the taller man moaning lewdly at the cool, lubricated intrusion of a slender finger, to the second knuckle, his muscles clenching around the digit. 

"So tight, baby." Phichit stammered thickly, carefully gliding his finger in and out, watching the twisting features of Chris's face with reverence, something akin to pride swelling in his chest as the taller man rocked down onto his finger. "More?"

_"Oui, yesyesyesplease!"_

"Mmm, I love hearing your noises... don't muffle them, 'kay? I want to hear-" Phichit slid a second finger in with the first, "-every little breath, every tiny sound." Chris's low voice pitched higher and higher as Phichit worked him open, the older man sinking into the sensation of being filled, his cock twitching again.

"Phich-hiiiit, god, f-ffeeelssssoogood..." He trailed off as his hips began to rock against those fingers again, craving more and needing more. "M-more, please more, please?" He begged. _Begged._ He was already wrecked and he knew it, his cheeks burning and his body buzzing on that high.

"Of course, baby." Phichit groaned as he curled those fingers, pressing at the spot he knew would make those perfect thighs shake. 

Pleasure exploded behind Chris's eyes as Phichit massaged his prostate, the sensation so much better than the toy he had bought for lonely nights. His body wracked and twisted with the effort of staving off his orgasm before his partner was even inside him. A third finger joined the fray and his mind was nearly completely occluded by lust and want.

Chris made an impossibly delicious noise, something that sounded like surprise and a plea at the same time. Phichit’s slate-gray eyes were blown wide, watching with rapt pleasure at the way those muscles shifted under tanned flesh, the clench of his jaw and the quiver in his lower abdomen.

" _Y-yesyesyesyes_ , Phichit, there!” Chris keened, his mouth no longer functioning in conjunction with his brain. “God, 'mclose, so close, _s'il vous plaît!_ " 

"Don't hold back, baby." Phichit moaned hoarsely, twisting his fingers just a tiny bit faster, licking his lips at the sight of this stunning creature, panting and writhing on his bed like he was made to be there. "You can come if you want. Come for me, Christophe. Please."

With a strangled cry and a thrust of his hips, the older man released his pleasure, thick ribbons of his spend splashing on his stomach and Phichit's hip as he clenched around those expert fingers. Mewling his name and garbled French as Phichit’s fingers fucked him through his orgasm, Chris's vision returned to see sparkling grey eyes twinkling down at him and a cheek-splitting grin shining from coffee-colored lips.

"You're so beautiful." Phichit whispered, brushing the backs of his fingers over Chris's flushed cheek.

"You… you didn't..." Chris struggled to get his brain and his voice to cooperate, looking down at the neglected length resting against his trembling hip.

Phichit's grin grew impossibly wider and he shifted his weight, kneeling between the taller man's legs. “Do you want me to wear a condom? I’m clean.” He asked before things moved forward.

“I-I’m clean too,” Chris swallowed against his dry throat, “but if you want to, y-you can.” 

Phichit hummed thoughtfully, tapping his lips with a clean finger. “How about this. I’ll wear one tonight, and tomorrow we’ll get tested together. Sound okay?”

“Mmhmmm. Safe sex is sexy sex, after all.” Chris laughed and Phichit dashed into the bathroom, washing off the old lube and plucking a foil packet from his bag. He quickly resettled between Chris’s legs, rolling on the condom and stroking himself back to fullness with some fresh lube. 

"I’m glad you're not one of those once-a-night types, baby." he smirked, hooking his elbows under Chris's knees and bringing them up sharply to the level of his hips as he kneeled up, making the older man yelp in surprise. "Because I have some catching up to do."

"Y-You really are stronger than you look!" Chris gasped again, his mouth running dry as Phichit lined himself up at his entrance, stopping just short of touching in an infuriatingly teasing display.

"Ready for round two, baby?" Phichit moaned in time with a languid roll of his hips, his cock sinking easily into Chris with a lewd squelch of lubed flesh.

"Oh. God. _Yes!_ " Chris cried as Phichit's length ran him through, the heat of the Thai man's skin kissing his and filling him perfectly.

"F-fuck, baby- so tight for me. So. Perfect." The younger man panted as he slowly began rocking in and out, the drag of Chris's walls against his cock toe-curling and breathtaking, even through the condom. "I've- god, I've wanted to do this for so- _mmnnh_ \- so long!" Phichit moaned as Chris's body fluttered around him erratically. 

Chris didn't hear his words, just the sound of his voice, rough and raw with sex, had his eyes rolling back and his pulse thundering in his ears. Shaking arms reached up to grip at Phichit's forearms, the blonde desperate for something to cling to as he began to fall apart again. His throat hoarse and trembling, he called his partner's name over and over, the only word he could think of, the only word that mattered. 

"Phichit, ooohgod Phichiit~" 

"Christophe…” Phichit’s mind spun as he remembered the night after that party, that he had laid in this exact bed and wished he'd said something to the man presently milking his cock for all it had. Wishing he had had the balls to ask him out to a dinner like the one they'd just shared. He had moaned the same name that night too. "Chris, _mmmmnnn_ , baby, I'm gonna come, d-do you want me to p-pull out? I-" Chris cut him off with a shout.

"N-no! Please, inside, Phich, 'm close too. W-wanna feel you..." The plea set Phichit's skin on fire. 

"Chris, oh god I- I… _oh god!_ " Phichit cried out as his hips stuttered and slammed against Chris's, groaning and panting as he filled the condom with his seed, fingers digging into his cream-colored thighs, just about managing to not collapse onto the heaving chest below him.

Chris blissed out as he came again with a shriek of Phichit's name, clenching around his cock, feeling him fill him with his thick, hot spend as his own splashes up onto his lover's coffee-colored stomach. Weaving a hand into the sweat-soaked black hair at the back of his head, Chris pulled him down for a sloppy, needy kiss, teeth clashing together and tongues sliding over each other.

"B-Baby," Phichit stammered, panting against Chris's delicious lips, "I-I'd better put your legs down. D-Don't wanna hurt you."

Chris smiled despite himself. How did he forget that he was almost bent in half? Maybe he wanted to stay like that. The blonde hissed with overstimulation as Phichit slowly, gently lowered his legs back to the bed and pulled out. The air seemed cool now, and he greedily reached for his lover's arms again, almost afraid that this has all been a dream; that he might wake up still in the restaurant with Viktor and Yuuri rather than in this delectable man's arms.

Phichit curled around his hip in an almost feline fashion, trailing fingertips over his sensitive, clammy chest and gazing at him with heated eyes. "Happy birthday, Christophe." he whispers with a peck to his cheek.

Chris hummed happily with the gentle touch. "Mmmn, _merci_. As soon as I can feel my toes, let's clean up, _oui_?" 

Phichit snickered and pressed another kiss to the flushed jut of his cheekbone. "Of course." The two sat up slowly, Phichit gently pulling the condom off, tying it and tossing it in the bin. Chris groaned in his chest as he shifted, a twinge of pain in his lower back making him wince. The wheels turned a bit slowly in Phichit’s sex-drunk brain. "Everything okay? Oh... you... you're skating... in the Olympics... _CHRISTOPHE!??!_ Why did you let me top?!" Phichit screeched, covering his face with his hands.

The blonde laughed tiredly, stretching his arms over his head, savoring that popping sensation as his spine decompressed. 

"What, do you think I've never had a bit of fun before a competition? I don't skate until next week anyway, _mon cher_. Don't worry your gorgeous head about it." He replied in his usual silken tones, some semblance of suave reemerging after their disappearing act.

"Guess I'll be taking you out again tomorrow night, huh?"

“You already promised me a ‘safe sex is sexy sex’ date, so you bet your delicious, peachy booty you’re taking me out afterwards.” Chris laughed as he stood up slowly, easily folding himself in half in a way that nearly stole Phichit’s breath away. "But only if it ends in that jacuzzi tub over there." Chris laughed as he pointed to the massive bathtub in the corner of the ensuite through the open bathroom door.

Phichit smiled brightly, standing on his toes to kiss those bitten red lips, sighing happily. "Baby, it can end wherever you'd like. As long as it begins with you and me.”

***

"Mmnn- _zolotse_ , your phone..." Viktor grumbled, his voice thick with sleep and garbled by his accent as Yuuri's screen nearly blinded him on the nightstand. It was two in the goddamn morning. Who in the _hell_ was texting him so early?

"Wh-what? Who is it?" Yuuri groaned, rolling into Viktor's chest, still a bit sticky with sweat. They had only just said their goodnight. The Russian rumbled as he pulled out the charging cable and passed the device to his husband. Yuuri's eyes blinked widely as they adjusted to the bright blue of his screen. A text from Phichit.

_**Phichit** (sent 02:12) thankyouthankyouthankyouuuuu_  
_**Phichit** (sent 02:12) IMG-0896_20220215_

Yuuri shrieked when he opened the photo. Hazel and charcoal eyes were looking up into the camera, smiling tiredly. A tangle of grey silk sheets covered the _bare_ bits, they had obviously rumpled them earlier. He had angled the phone just right, getting the bare expanse of Chris's collarbone and shoulder in the shot, the coffee color of Phichit’s upper back contrasting his. 

"What?!" Viktor sat bolt-upright in the bed. 

"Th-they sent a picture..."

"Who did, love?"

"Phichit and Chris... I think the date went well." Yuuri chuckled tiredly and locked his phone again, setting it on the table on his side of the bed. He probably should have expected something like this. At least it wasn't more... _explicit._ Yuuri rolled back into the warmth of his husband, a sigh falling from those pink lips. "I'm happy we meddled."

"Me too, Yuuri. I told you there was no harm in it." Viktor teased, Yuuri giggled against his chest. 

"Vitya..." Yuuri chuckled when he felt it, that prodding heat against his thigh. "Wasn't twice enough for you tonight?"

"Mmmmm, I always want more of my Yuuri." Viktor sighed, pressing Yuuri into the bed again. Yuuri didn't mind. They weren't skating for a few days anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day (and/or Single's Awareness Day) and Happy Birthday to everyone's favorite Swiss skater, our baby boy Christophe Giacometti! In celebration, have 6k of smutty birthday sex! Yay!
> 
> I sincerely hope y'all enjoyed this self-indulgent Chuchumetti smut. Because I did. A lot. Oops. Thanks again to [mnad96 ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnad96) and [Lauriana25](https://archiveofourown.com/users/Lauriana25) who helped out with this fic! If you enjoyed, drop a kudos, say hi in the comments! I am a sad, needy little smut peddler and I crave validation like I crave the sweet, sweet kiss of peanut butter mnm's. 
> 
> LET PHICHIT TOP 2K19
> 
> ❤️ IA ❤️  
> [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/IAtheAuthor)


End file.
